steve carlton writing

I wake up at night. It is 2:30 AM and my mind accelerates, as does my heartbeat. There is no point in turning around for another couple of minutes anymore, I won't find any rest.  I go to the bathroom and put in my contact lense and use some eyedrops and sit down in front of my screen. The whole day has revolved around this moment, it is time for playoff basketball and my team is playing. The Toronto Raptors, the underdog from Canada.  Last year, from April through June, was a magical time because we ended up winning the NBA championship. Notice I said "we"?  For somebody living in Germany it is not exactly comfortable to stay up every other night to watch live games that take place on the other side of the globe, but that is part of the excitement. Feeling connected with the team and knowing what happened before everybody else around here does.  I have never been to Canada, nor the US for that matter. When I started playing basketball myself I was often watching highligh

There might be a couple of reasons that have kept me from expressing myself lately. Maybe it was the fact that my operation and recovery took a bigger toll on me than I initially expected they would. This is possible, yet unlikely, since although I was very stressed, I don't think there could have been any long lasting effects due to the sensational recovery. (This is somewhat outdated, but still holds true at the end of the day.) Maybe getting my degree and struggling to find work immediately put me in a bad mental state. I braced myself for circumstances similar to this, but I was hopeful that it was not necessary to do so. Managing my expectations has always been difficult for me and I grativate towards being hard on myself. Maybe it was the fact that I saw one of my closest friends very vulnerable and realising my own helplessness. Seeing somebody that I have known my entire life open up about their own struggles and finding myself in that situation again. I have spend some tim